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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25642105">Meet Lie</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekat/pseuds/Hekat'>Hekat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Lies, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:42:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,402</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25642105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekat/pseuds/Hekat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dream admits the truth of his and George's relationship.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Meet Lie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Agh…” George groaned, his injuries getting worse as his open wound flooded with a tainted crimson. The wind blew next to George and Dream, the sunny leaves falling down to the grassy field below them.</p>
<p>“...” Dream didn’t say anything, he just merely smiled under his mask. His eyes grew gray from vexation, he held his knife over the small male beneath him.</p>
<p>“D-did… Did all of our friendly chats mean nothing?! Was I just… a lump of flesh that just happened to pass by you..?” George screamed in rage, seeing Dream’s sociopath face. He hadn’t cared about George at all, none of his interactions had ever mattered to the masked man at all.</p>
<p>“Please… please just tell me it wasn’t a lie…” George said, tearing up behind his glasses, his hand lurched over to his open lacerations as he yelped twice; one for help, and another for hopelessness.</p>
<p>“They didn’t mean anything.” Dream said nonchalantly, as if this conversation was like the rest, a fabrication. The white blanket of deceit had enveloped around George’s mind, logic and emotion thrown out of synchronization; truth and lies off equilibrium.</p>
<p>“W-what..?!” George said, watching the masked man take another step, grabbing a bottle of something. It seemed to be rubbing alcohol.</p>
<p>“Let me explain. Since you don’t get it.” Dream sighed. Ready to explain the last explanation George would ever hear.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Two years before this situation occurred, Dream was working at a fast food restaurant, and George was an accountant. George had gone to the street to place an order at his favorite coffee shop. As he opened the door to go in, he bumped into some, a taller figure. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>“Ow… Hey, sorry about that.” George had said, lowering his hand towards Dream. He grabbed the others hand, picking himself up before dusting off anything that stuck to his uniform. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Heh, it’s fine, it hurts a little but I’ll be fine.” Dream smiled, he looked up at the coffee store sign that was above them both. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Hey, you want a cup of coffee? I can pay. We can chat here.” He explained, going inside of the shop to enter the short line in front of him. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “So… What have you been doing here?” George asked, trying to create some small talk. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Nothing much, I’m on my break right now. I’m working at some crummy place.” Dream answered with a tranquil tone, as if the chords in his throats had been trying to perfect a harmony. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Hmm, is the pay good at least?” George asked, he realized that he was terrible at small talk. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Yeah, enough to have a stable living.” Dream said, sighing happily when it was finally his turn to order. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Hello sir, what would you like to have?” A worker asked, grabbing their notepad. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Uh, a frappuccino for him, and a water for me.” Dream spoke, his words feeling specific and tender, yet there was order and authority under them. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Woah… how’d you know? George exclaimed in surprise, seeing how calm and composed Dream had been. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Heh, lucky guess.” Dream said nonchalantly, his calm smile returning once more. </em>
</p>
<p>“It still doesn’t m-make sense..! I don’t get it!” George yelled, seeing Dream do a shushing motion with his finger towards his mask. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The masked man opened the rubbing alcohol, beginning to pour the illuminated substance onto his wound. George screamed in agony as Dream continued to gush the liquid to his wounds. The sharp pains continued, what was left of his muscle tissue was searing in scorching torment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let me walk through the story again. Tell me what sounds like a fabrication, okay bud?” Dream elucidated, his shining smile had grown ever more.</p>
<p>“,,,” George couldn’t say anything, shock possibly running through his nervous system, he thought back to the story once again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Two years before this situation occurred, Dream was working at a fast food restaurant, and George was an accountant. George had gone to the street to place an order at his favorite coffee shop. As he opened the door to go in, </em> <em> he bumped into some, a taller figure. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait… was you bumping into me… intentional?” George had asked, trying to feel desensitized to the pain, which would’ve worked is Dream hadn’t poured the alcohol at random intervals.</p>
<p>“Yep.” Dream said. He hadn’t said anything more, just pouring more rubbing alcohol on George’s wounds, seeing him ground and whimper as he struggled to recall the story again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>“Ow… Hey, sorry about that.” George had said, lowering his hand towards Dream. He grabbed the others hand, picking himself up before dusting off anything that stuck to his uniform. </em>
</p>
<p><em>“Heh, it’s fine,</em> <em>it hurts a little</em><em> but I’ll be fine.” Dream smiled, he looked up at the coffee store sign that was above them both.</em></p>
<p>“If you bumped into me on purpose… you weren’t hurt were you? You just… j-just pretended to be…” George realized, speaking with hesitation in his voice.</p>
<p>“Correct once again. I wonder why I pretended to be hurt.” Dream said, trying to continue the story, as well as the endless questioning that started to circle around and plague George’s mind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“</em><em>Hey, you want a cup of coffee? I can pay. We can chat here. </em> <em> ” He explained, going inside of the shop to enter the short line in front of him. </em></p>
<p>“To… to make a conversation with me..? To get to know me..?” George interrogated, watching him stop pouring the liquid to adjust his mask slightly in the mirror; before once again turning back towards him.</p>
<p>“You’re a great detective. I wonder why you settled for an accountant. You always were the cautious one.” Dream said, pointing out George’s negative idiosyncrasies.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>“So… What have you been doing here?” George asked, trying to create some small talk. </em>
</p>
<p><em> “Nothing much, I’m on my break right now. I’m </em> <em> working at some crummy place. </em> <em> ” Dream answered with a tranquil tone, as if the chords in his throats had been trying to perfect a harmony. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But… this mansion, this estate… you own it. So you... w-working… that was..” George said, spotting contradiction beyond contradiction in Dream’s actions and words.</p>
<p>“Yup, I’m a coder, inventor, author. Sad how your insignificance hadn’t spotted any of my works beforehand. Even the name I go by is a lie.” Dream explained, saying the last truth George would most likely hear.</p>
<p>“What else is a lie?!” George asked hastily, feeling the effects of blood-lust as well as a constant ringing in his ears.</p>
<p>“Let’s continue to find out.” Dream asseverated, attempting to continue the thought process and cease the annoying questioning any further to the dying George.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>“Hmm, is the pay good at least?” George asked, he realized that he was terrible at small talk. </em>
</p>
<p><em> “Yeah, </em> <em> enough to have a stable living. </em> <em> ” Dream said, sighing happily when it was finally his turn to order. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A lie… of course!” Dream said, cutting off George before he could even connect the dots between deceit and veracity.</p>
<p>“But… the clothes-” George spoke before getting cut off, trying to solve the mystery of his ‘work’ clothes. But before he could crush anymore lies, Dream shushed him, glaring intensely at his direction.</p>
<p>
  <em> “</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hello sir, what would you like to have?” A worker asked, grabbing their notepad. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Uh, a frappuccino for him, and a water for me.” Dream spoke, his words feeling specific and tender, yet there was order and authority under them. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Woah… how’d you know? George exclaimed in surprise, seeing how calm and composed Dream had been. </em>
</p>
<p><em> “ </em> <em> Heh, lucky guess. </em> <em> ” Dream said nonchalantly, his calm smile returning once more. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait… how did… how d-did.. How… did you know..?” George asked, he noticed the smile from two years ago, seeing no differences from the past smile and the smile Dream had on now. Both were fakes, both were built in lies from the start to the end.</p>
<p>“That’s all for the cross examination. You can sleep now.” Dream spoke; his voice getting low and soft, as if he were caring towards a baby on their deathbed. His grin grew ever more larger as he pulled out the knife that stopped him from spilling more copious amounts of blood.</p>
<p>“Wait… wait Dream..! Please..! PLEASE..!” George yelled, begging for Dream to help him, trying to use his strength to yell at him for help.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Help never came. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>George laid there, his body unmoved from anyone. His body was now a rotten remnant of what he once was. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b> <em>Nothing.</em> </b>
</p>
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